


Positive Reinforcement

by LadyBookwormWithTeeth



Series: NSFW Drabble Meme Challenge [11]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Humiliation, Situational Humiliation, Teasing, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 08:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5327378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBookwormWithTeeth/pseuds/LadyBookwormWithTeeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boss and Secretary AU. Established relationship. I have no idea what I was thinking. NaNoWriMo will do that to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Positive Reinforcement

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta** : MaddieBonanaFana

 “Miss French, are you touching yourself?”

Belle stared at the intercom, paralyzed by shock. Mr. Gold's voice was loud and unashamed, announcing her indiscretion to the entire room. Would he have been more discreet if there had been clients waiting in there? Probably not, but she didn't want to find out. She fought the urge to turn around and face him through the glass wall. If he wanted to see her, he'd have said so.

Belle pressed the right button and said, “No, Mr. Gold. I'm working on the translations, as you asked me to.”

His cold voice came out of the intercom, unforgiven. “I can see your hands, Miss French. You were typing with the left and playing with your pussy with the right.”

He could see everything from his chair. The wall that separated her from his office was clear glass, giving him a perfect view of her desk, her chair, her body. He loved having that advantage over her: all that Belle did from her desk was on display for him, but she couldn't see him without turning around.

She tried to explain herself, “I wasn't pleasuring myself, Mr. Gold. I just touched it.”

He waited five seconds before replying, just to give her a false sense of hope that he'd easily overlook her slip up. But then came his voice, and Belle trembled, “Come into my office, Miss French.”

Belle put back her shoes and pushed down her pencil skirt, smoothing the fabric until it fit her perfectly. A quick check in the mirror to make sure her hair was in place. The last thing she needed right now was to be called on her untidy appearance. They were working after hours, no one would come into the firm at this time, but he still wouldn't tolerate sloppiness.

“Mr. Gold,” she greeted, standing in front of his desk, hands primly positioned in front of her body.

He glanced up from the file he had been working on, barely focusing on her before looking away again. Belle thought that standing in his office, having her eyes on him, would make things easier, but it didn't. She was at his mercy, not the other way around. Never the other way around.

“Explain yourself,” he said, with a calculated calm. Her legs wouldn't be shaking so much if he had shouted the words at her.

“May I sit down, Mr. Gold?” she asked, thinking they might give in at any moment.

He looked into her eyes. “Are you wet?”

The question caught her unaware. Her gaze dropped to the floor and she whispered, “Yes,” that simple word covered in shame.

“Then stand,” he said. “I won't wipe your stains from my leather chairs again. Explain yourself.”

“Yes, Mr. Gold. I touched myself, but I wasn't masturbating,” she said, her voice weak, struggling to pronounce each word clearly. If he wasn't satisfied with her pronunciation, he would make her repeat the whole thing ten or twenty times until she got it right, and Belle didn't feel like she could handle that now. “It was a very light touch.”

“A very light touch that lasted...” he consulted his watch. God, he had timed it. “Four minutes and seven seconds. And that was when I interrupted you.”

Belle wanted to explain herself further, make excuses, beg forgiveness. But he hadn't asked her a question, so she kept her mouth shut.

“It's not something you usually do,” he granted. “Which is why I'm allowing you to explain yourself. I assume you were bored, or just plain horny. Am I correct?”

“On both accounts, yes.”

“What were you thinking as you _lightly_ touched yourself?”

The disdain in that word alone made her want to drop to her knees and start saying she was sorry, but he wasn't done with her just yet.

“I was thinking-”

“Look into my eyes as you speak Miss French.”

Belle did as she was told. He had leaned over the table and was staring at her with piercing brown eyes that always made her feel naked. Her sex was throbbing between her legs, and his eyes weren't doing anything to calm that aching down.

“I was thinking,” she repeated, each word trembling, but clear, “that I wanted you to touch me.”

“Touch you where?”

“My neck. I wanted you to hold me down and wrap your hands around my neck.”

“Hold or choke?”

Belle frowned. She hadn't had the time to think of that distinction as of yet. “Choke. I think I'd rather you choked me.”

“What else?”

“I wanted to touch myself while you do it.”

“Lightly?”

There a tease in his voice that made Belle feel comfortable enough to let out a little giggle. “No. Not lightly.”

“Is that all, Miss French?”

“That's as far as I went, Mr. Gold.”

“Then come here.”

She walked around the desk, her step still a little unstable, but glad that her confession was over and done with. He swiveled in his chair to look at her.

“Lift your skirt and spread your legs. I want to look at you.”

Belle pulled the pencil skirt up and held it in place, giving him a clear view of her sex. Mr. Gold rolled his chair a little closer and placed his hands on her hips, just beneath the fabric she was holding.

“Not that I want to discourage your imagination, Miss French,” he said. Belle looked down, but his eyes were focused between her legs now. “But was that what you were supposed to be doing?”

“No, Mr. Gold.”

“And what was it?”

“I was supposed to be translating Miss Fa's emails.”

“Yes. But instead, you were wasting our time. I might have indulged you if you had asked me for a break,” he said, coming close enough to touch the tip of his nose to her skin. He inhaled her scent with a deep breath, giving her goosebumps. “You know how much I love to play with your cunt when I'm bored. And I am... very... very... bored.” He punctuated his words with soft kisses.

Belle sighed and spread her legs just a little further apart, inviting him to dip his tongue deep into her, but he didn't move.

“However, there is a moment to act like a secretary, and a moment to act like a whore.”

His hands held on to her waist, but he pulled his face back to look at her. The look of disappointment on her face seemed to amuse him.

“Is touching yourself while you're supposed to be working the proper behavior for a secretary?”

“No, Mr. Gold,” she muttered. “It's the behavior of a slut.”

“A _whore_ , Miss French” he corrected. In his lips, the word sounded even worse. “Not a slut. Sluts are for free, and you were costing my firm money. You were still getting paid while you were playing with yourself. All because you can't keep your fingers out of your cunt for a few minutes.”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Gold.”

He smiled at her. He had told her repeatedly that he loved the sound of repentance in her voice.

“I was thinking of eating your pussy tonight, Miss French. Once we got home. I'd tie your legs spread open and _feast_ on it. But I don't think I want to do that anymore.”

“But Mr. Gold-”

“What a waste,” he sighed. “You smell so good. I'm sure you've been wet for _hours_ waiting for all the work to be done so that I could touch you properly. Not _lightly_. But because of you we are now behind schedule, and we'll have to leave later than I planned.” His finger traced a path from her navel to her sex, a touch so light she could barely feel it. “I think I'll whip your pussy raw instead, show you what happens when you behave like a whore at work. That way I'll be sure you won't dare to touch yourself the next day. Or for several days. Which of your holes should I fuck instead, though?” He grabbed her roughly by the chin and forced her mouth open. Belle didn't fight him. “I haven't made up my mind. I love the things you can do with your tongue. But if I fuck your ass, you're bound to feel me for a few days.”

He examined her for a few seconds, watching her cheeks turn from pink to red. Her shame was delightful to watch. Once he was done and let go of her, she said, “I can keep up with the schedule, Mr. Gold, I promise.”

“You can't, Miss French. It's almost nine. We might as well just go home now.”

“No!” she threw herself on her knees. “I promise. In less than one hour I'll be done. I won't touch myself anymore.”

“One hour, you say?” he made a show at consulting his watch. “That won't do, Miss French. Thirty minutes, no more.”

Belle nodded. She'd have to work fast, but she could do it. She had done much more in much less.

“And I don't want any mistakes in those translations.”

She dared to give him a cocky smile. “Mr. Gold, it's me.”

He looked ready to kiss her for that cheekiness alone, but held back. “Alright. Thirty minutes. Starting now.”

Belle scurried to her feet.

“Miss French!” he called, making her turn on her way back to her desk. “If you manage to finish in twenty, I'll make you come before you even get off your chair.”

 _Well, talk about incentives_ , Belle thought, sitting down to get to work.

 


End file.
